Kiss Me
by LuxKen27
Summary: Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss…and sometimes it means so much more. Seven pivotal moments that defined Stacy's life and shaped her perceptions of love. A Valentine's Day ficlet serial.
1. Absurd

Title: Kiss Me

Author: LuxKen27

Universe: Canon/canon continuation

Genre: Romance

Summary: Sometimes a kiss is just a kiss…and sometimes it means so much more. Seven pivotal moments that defined Stacy's life and shaped her perceptions of love. A Valentine's Day ficlet serial.

_Author's Note:_ Based on prompts chosen from challenge set one at the LJ community 7snogs. Each ficlet can stand alone as well as be read into the context of a larger story.

**DISCLAIMER: **The _Kids Incorporated_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1984 – 1993 Thomas Lynch/Gary Biller/MGM Television/20th Century Fox Home Entertainment/Disney Channel. Any resemblance to any person currently living or deceased is unintended (aka, I am writing about the _characters_, not the _actors_ who portray them). No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Prompt #1: Absurd

Word Count: 500

Universe: Season 3, Episode 3, 'Crush on You'

.xxxxx.

All it took was one look at Renee, and Stacy determined that _she_ was never going to fall for all that ooey-gooey mushy love stuff.

For weeks, her older sister's entire universe had orbited around her crush, a classmate of hers named Jules. Renee had turned into a total space cadet, walking around with a dreamy smile and a faraway look in her eyes. After every afternoon set with the band, she was inseparable from her precious private journal, sighing and swooning and doodling away, hearts and flowers and – most disgustingly of all – her first name intertwined with his last. At home, all Stacy could ever get out of her was a wistful "yeah, okay," no matter what the question had been.

Their mother had called it "adolescence" with a wry smile and a knowing look; Ryan had called it an illness – and he should know, having suffered through it more times than any of the rest of their friends thus far. Whatever it was, Stacy was bound and determined _she'd _never go through it, losing herself so much in such icky feelings for a boy that she'd make a total fool out of herself whenever he was around.

Besides, what was so hard about being around boys? Mickey and Ryan and the Kid were boys, and they weren't hard to talk to…

Still, Stacy had to admit, it was interesting and a little intriguing to watch her sister go through all this (even if she herself never would). Renee had finally worked up the nerve to talk to Jules one afternoon at the P*lace, but only after some serious confidence bolstering from Gloria. She approached him hesitantly, clasping her hands nervously behind her back, and looking visibly relieved when he invited her to sit down. Gloria, Ryan, and Riley had celebrated this innocuous invite with a level of excitement that only served to mystify Stacy and the Kid. They exchanged glances and shrugged, unsure of what the big deal was.

Renee relaxed as she was drawn into conversation with Jules, and Stacy felt some of the tension ease from her own body. It was hard having someone as tightly-wound as Renee had become around all the time, sensitive to even the tiniest bit of teasing; besides, she wanted nothing more than for her sister to be happy – and if having a boyfriend would make her happy, then Stacy was all for it, even if she didn't quite understand the appeal.

As their conversation dwindled down, Renee stood up – only to have Jules follow, grabbing her hand impulsively and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Renee flushed, surprised and pleased, her eyes flying up to her friends all the way across the room.

"Way to go, Renee," Ryan chuckled, slapping a high-five with Riley.

"They are _so_ cute together," Gloria remarked with a happy sigh.

"Oh, gross," the Kid muttered, his features twisting with exaggerated disgust.

Stacy's expression mirrored her best friend's. "I'm with you," she agreed with a shudder.


	2. Jealousy

Prompt #2: Jealousy

Word Count: 1,184

Universe: Season 3/4

.xxxxx.

"Isn't it great that we're invited to the high school's charity carnival?" Stacy marveled, sending a big smile towards her best friend, the Kid, as the two climbed the steps to the high school gymnasium.

"Anything that gets us a day off school is awesome," he concurred, pressing impatiently through the sea of fellow middle-schoolers that crowded into the building. "Come on, let's find everyone else!"

The two moved forward as best they could among their chattering classmates, all of whom were excited about mixing with their high school peers. The carnival was an annual event, benefitting the chosen charity of the senior class. This year proceeds were going to help fund a new reading room at Children's Hospital, and thus, the event had a rather retro feel to it.

Stacy and the Kid roamed around the gym for a few minutes, checking out the contests and events, before heading outside, where the majority of people were milling about. Senior class members manned all of the booths, and there was something for everyone – everything from boardwalk staples to children's games to pie-throwing contests – and, of course, the infamous dunk tank, where students could take out their frustrations with their teachers in a good-natured – and profitable – way.

The dunk tank _always_ brought in the most money.

"Hey, look!" the Kid piped up, pointing across the large green expanse. "There's Renee!"

Renee smiled and waved as she caught sight of them from her spot in the face-painting booth. Stacy and the Kid made a beeline for her, their curiosity nearly getting the best of them. Gloria, a senior, had been keeping her booth under wraps ever since the carnival was announced a few weeks prior, and they had yet to find her.

"Hey, guys," Renee greeted them, waving her paintbrush like a wand. "What's up?"

"Spill it," the Kid demanded without preamble. "Where's Gloria?"

Renee heaved an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes as a smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. "You are never in a _million years_ going to guess where she is."

"We don't want to guess," Stacy replied cheekily, her hands settling on her hips. "Why don't you just tell us?"

"Why don't I _show_ you instead?" Renee suggested, putting down her brush and wiping her hands on her paint-splattered smock. "You're never going to believe it."

Stacy and the Kid exchanged a puzzled look, but shrugged, each feeling a bit annoyed that Renee wouldn't immediately satisfy their curiosity. They followed her without protest, however, crossing the schoolyard and ducking behind the impromptu stage that had been erected for opening and closing ceremonies.

Stacy frowned as she passed by it, her eyes settling on a group of kids off to one side, each practicing different acts. "What's going on here?" she inquired.

Renee glanced back. "Oh, they're holding a talent show as part of the carnival," she replied with a dismissive wave.

"And Gloria's not in it?" the Kid mused incredulously. "Now I _know_ I have to see this."

Suddenly, Renee stopped, bringing the other two up short. She rocked back on her heels, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, now you know," she said with a wry smile, nodding her head to indicate two booths that had been set up a few feet away, long lines snaking out in front of each.

The Kid wrinkled his nose. "A kissing booth?" he exclaimed, sounding completely unimpressed.

Renee nodded sagely. "So much for feminism," she added under her breath.

Stacy furrowed her brow as she gazed at the scene in front of her. Gloria was manning one booth, all smiles and laughter as she joked with the boys lined up before her – and, occasionally, sending an energetic grin to her left, where one of the senior boys was offering kisses of his own. Stacy had never seen such a thing before, but apparently it was all the rage, at least among the high schoolers.

The idea of paying for a kiss seemed a little creepy to her as well_. I guess hormones make you do weird things,_ she considered silently.

"Oh, my God," the Kid suddenly gasped, clutching her arm and drawing Stacy out of her thoughts. "Is that who I think it is?"

From the other side of the Kid, Renee started to giggle. "Oh, my," she breathed, "this _is_ a surprise."

"What?" Stacy wondered, standing on her tiptoes and straining to see through the ever-thickening crowd. "What's going on?"

"Right there," the Kid directed, pointing none-too-discreetly at Gloria's line. "Isn't that Ryan?"

Stacy's stomach turned over. "_Our_ Ryan?" she managed, following his line of vision. Sure enough, their bandmate Ryan was standing patiently in line, his expression completely serious even as the others laughed and joked around him.

She wasn't sure why her insides were suddenly knotting up, but she felt like she might be sick.

Gloria's line was moving fairly quickly, so it wasn't long until Ryan was standing before her, money in hand. The vivacious Latina seemed shocked to see him standing there, and the two conversed for a long moment before she accepted his money. Stacy frowned as she watched the exchange, her sister's and her friend's laughter grating on her ears.

"Oh, man," the Kid intoned, his eyes sparkling as he watched Ryan lean in for his kiss, "he's _never_ gonna live this one down!"

Renee was shaking her head. "I had no idea," she kept repeating, somewhat dumbfounded. "I had _no idea_!"

_I did_, Stacy thought, shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She'd noticed the way Ryan had been looking at Gloria lately, but she hadn't really put much stock in it – until now. They'd been friends for ages, after all, and what was a look or two between friends?

But – Ryan? With _Gloria_? Their kiss certainly seemed to linger longer than all of the others Gloria had dispensed in the last few minutes, so maybe…

But, unlike her friends, Stacy didn't find it funny. Instead, she scowled, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to figure out why she wasn't getting as much enjoyment out of this as the others obviously were.

"Whoa, Stace, if looks could kill…!"

Stacy shook herself, glancing at the Kid. "What?" she mumbled, trying to push her jumble of thoughts and emotions to the side.

The Kid was staring at her incredulously. "If I didn't know better," he said slowly, a mischievous expression settling over his features, "I'd say you were jealous."

"Jealous? Me?" she shot back, a flush rising to coat the back of her neck. "Of what? _Gloria_? No way."

The Kid pursed his lips, studying her long and hard before shrugging his shoulders. "If you say so," he sighed, though his tone indicated he clearly didn't believe her.

"I do," Stacy reiterated, a bit more forcefully than she intended. She took a step forward, tugging on her sister's arm. "Come on, guys, let's go," she urged.

Mercifully, Renee seemed to have missed the terse words that had passed between the friends. "Where to?" she asked brightly.

"Anywhere but here," Stacy muttered.


	3. Spark

Prompt #3: Spark

Word Count: 1,354

Universe: Season 4, Episode 7, 'You've Got the Wrong Date'

.xxxxx.

Stacy was unable to suppress her smile as she gazed out over the crowd at the P*lace. For once, one of Riley's wacky ideas had come to successful fruition – the first annual Sadie Hawkins Day dance was in full swing. The band had spent the day helping Riley decorate the front room of the neighborhood soda shop, and it was totally decked out, swathes of silver and gold covering the walls, contrasting nicely with the red checkered tablecloths. Kids Inc was providing entertainment as well as attending themselves, and they'd spent the better half of the last hour rocking the place.

All of that was well and good, of course, but best of all? Stacy had her very first date. Jason was the cutest boy in her class at school, and a lot of girls had been vying for his attention. She felt incredibly lucky and special to be here with him, even if it was only by happenstance. She'd really made a mess of things, convincing Renee to ask Jason _for_ her, only to have him think it was _Renee_ who wanted the date. She managed to track Jason down and straighten things out only the afternoon before, and he seemed excited at the prospect of attending the dance with her, instead of her sister.

Stacy couldn't help but feel very grown up that evening, her confidence further bolstered by the reception of the audience to the band's latest set.

Riley clambered up on stage, grabbing a free microphone. "All right, everybody," he announced, "we're going to give the band a break, and let them enjoy the dance. They'll be back later for the second set – in the meanwhile, I'm pleased to announce the services of DJ Barney!"

The audience snickered good-naturedly as Riley's cousin Barney came out on stage, tripping over his own feet as he did so. The band members busied themselves with setting aside instruments and mics, with Ryan giving everyone a reminder of when to meet for the second set before they scattered in different directions. Stacy smiled when she noticed Jason waiting next to the stage for her.

"I'm glad you guys could take a break," he said, reaching shyly for her hand as she descended the stairs. "Would you like to dance?"

"Sure," she agreed softly, allowing him to lead her out onto the dance floor. She could feel the jealous eyes of her classmates on them as they began moving with the up-tempo beat of DJ Barney's first selection, but she didn't care. She was having the time of her life.

Only…she couldn't seem to keep her eyes focused solely on her date.

From across the way, she noticed Renee, dancing with her old boyfriend, Jules. He wasn't her date for the dance, but they'd been spending an awful lot of time together lately….and then there was the Kid, center of his own whirlwind, dancing in the middle of a group of girls, all vying for his attention. Stacy smiled, sending him a thumbs up as he caught her eye. He grinned, returning the gesture.

Richie and Connie, the youngest and newest members of the band, were holding court at the food table, where Riley was keeping a watchful eye on them as he scooped his sun-daisy-maes for customers. Richie's big mouth had already gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion, even if he was mostly charming enough to rescue himself. Still, the last thing any of the band members wanted to deal with tonight was another one of his hare-brained schemes.

"I'm really glad I'm here with you tonight, Stacy," Jason said, drawing Stacy's attention back to him as the pace of the music changed. She was startled to realize that he was gazing at her intently.

"I'm happy, too," she murmured in reply, averting her eyes as a blush stained her cheeks. "Thanks for coming with me, after everything that happened…"

Jason swept her into his arms as a slow song filled the air. "No problem," he replied, hesitantly closing the space between them by winding his arms around her waist.

Stacy's heart began to race against her ribs. All around them, people were filtering off the dance floor, leaving behind only couples swaying to the music. From the corner of her eye, Stacy noticed Renee looking dreamy as she continued to dance with Jules. As she and Jason swayed ever closer to her sister, she briefly wondered what'd happened to Renee's date – or Jules's, for that matter.

"You look really nice tonight," Jason complimented her as they swung away from Renee and Jules.

Stacy smiled, feeling very grown up in her crimson-colored silk dress. "Thanks," she replied happily, tightening the brace of her hands on his shoulders. "So do you."

It was Jason's turn to flush at that, and he looked away, swallowing hard. With that, Stacy didn't feel quite so guilty for letting her mind wander during their dance. For some reason, she felt restless in his arms, unable to completely relax, her thoughts not quite settled. It wasn't until her eyes landed on a shadowy corner of the room near the stage that she figured out why.

There, at a table pulled as close to the wall as possible, sat Ryan and his date, Melissa. They were sitting close, engaged in low conversation, both looking quite serious and interested in each other. A wave of heat washed over Stacy as she stared at them, followed almost immediately by a chill. No matter how much she wished she could look away, now that she'd found him, she couldn't.

In truth, there had been many reasons why Stacy had struggled with asking Jason to the dance – and one of them was that he hadn't been her first choice.

She wasn't sure when her feelings for her long-time friend and bandmate had gotten all complicated, but one day, they had. Suddenly, she felt shy around him, tongue-tied and awkward, her heart outracing a hummingbird's whenever he was close. She started to notice just how good-looking he was and how flirtatious he could be, especially during their concerts. Heck, he'd even smiled at her a time or two, and it'd been enough to send her floating on air for the rest of the day.

Renee had noticed and recognized the spacey behavior, correctly guessing that Stacy was nursing a burgeoning crush on someone, but had mistaken the object of her sister's affection. It was just as well, Stacy figured, considering she didn't have a chance with Ryan. He'd been going on and on _and on_ about Melissa for weeks, and had been ecstatic when she finally asked him to the dance. It was obvious that he had eyes only for her, considering he'd made a beeline to her when the band had finished its set, and they'd been deep in conversation ever since.

Stacy watched with trepidation now as Ryan smiled, reaching out to twine his fingers through Melissa's hair, before drawing her into a long, lingering kiss. Almost immediately, Stacy turned away, a hot flush of embarrassment washing through her. _Why do I even care?_ she asked herself morosely. _That's never going to be me._

Dimly, she became aware that the music was fading, and Jason's arms had closed even further around her. She glanced up at him just in time to realize he was leaning closer, and her stomach flopped. Renee had told her how wonderful first kisses were supposed to be, full of sparks and fireworks and ringing bells…but when Jason's mouth brushed against hers, she felt absolutely nothing of the sort.

As much as she was looking forward to her first kiss – and as pleasantly surprised as she was that it had happened, so unexpectedly – she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed all the same. She liked Jason well enough, but there was no spark with him.

No, Stacy considered, her eyes drifting back to that dark corner near the stage, the only sparks she felt were for someone else entirely – someone who had no clue how badly she wished her first kiss could've been with him instead.


	4. Celebration

Prompt #4: Celebration

Word Count: 1,687

Universe: Season 5

.xxxxx.

Stacy gripped the wheel with white-knuckle force. "I'm really, _really_ nervous," she admitted, turning a guilty glance to her right.

Ryan smiled patiently from the passenger's seat. "Don't be," he advised, fastening his seatbelt. "Just try to relax."

_Easier said than done_, Stacy thought to herself, dragging her gaze back to the dashboard. She eyed the dials and instruments doubtfully, everything she'd learned about driving flying right out the window. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she mused aloud. "Your car is totally different from the one at school…"

A warm hand landed on her shoulder, heat curling through her body at the sudden, reassuring touch. "We don't have to do this, you know," Ryan reminded her. "You're the one who wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift."

"And you're the only person I know who does," Stacy murmured in conclusion. Though maybe she had expected to the contrary, it was really _not_ helping matters that she'd secretly been carrying a torch for him for last three years. He was just about the last person she wanted to embarrass herself in front of, even if they were friends.

"How did I get so lucky?" he teased wryly, squeezing her shoulder. "Look, I promise – this will all be much easier if you just take a deep breath, and try to relax. You passed the permit test, didn't you?"

She nodded.

He smiled. "Then you already know how to drive, so stop overthinking it. All you need is a little confidence."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth, lifting her gaze to meet his. "You really think I can do this?"

Mirth sparkled in his dark green eyes. "I certainly hope so," he replied airily. "I wasn't intending to spend my _entire_ Saturday afternoon giving you a driving lesson."

The growing knot in her stomach tightened, a feeling she was all too used to having around him. "Got a hot date tonight?" she queried, trying to redirect her disappointment with false cheer.

He laughed. "No," he responded, "but I _would_ like to make it back into the city before nightfall." He pulled away, settling back into his seat, turning his eyes to the country scenery that surrounded them. He'd brought them out here because of the nice stretch of open highway, yes, but also because it was not a heavily traveled road.

Stacy had been just as grateful for his foresight as she was about the prospect of spending time alone with him. Now, she wasn't so sure…

Tentatively, she reached for the key, turning it in the ignition. "Good," Ryan murmured from the seat beside her. "Now, just remember a few things: keep an eye on your tachometer, listen to the engine, and you'll know when to shift gears."

"I will?" she asked skeptically, prying one white-knuckled hand from the steering wheel and resting it on the stick shift.

"You will," he reassured her, laying his left hand over hers, igniting a current of electric heat that snaked pleasantly up her arm and through her body. "You'll feel it."

She blushed, swallowing hard as she nodded in response. "Okay then," she finally managed to choke out, dragging her eyes away from their joined hands, "here goes nothing."

Carefully, she pressed the gas while easing her left foot off the clutch, yelping a little in surprise when the car started rolling forward. "Keep going," Ryan encouraged, sitting up a bit straighter in his seat, his eyes focused on the street ahead of them. "Give it some more gas."

Stacy complied, clutching the steering wheel with one hand and the gearshift with the other, so nervous she could barely breathe, much less keep all of his instructions in mind. Her eyes darted from the dashboard to the street to her rearview mirror, and she was startled when Ryan's hand moved over hers, jerking the gearshift down into second.

"Clutch!" he directed sharply, wincing as he felt the gears grinding under their hands. The car lurched, and Stacy hit the brakes, both feet pressing the pedals as far back as they would go, bringing the car to an immediate halt.

Ryan took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, gently moving the shifter back into first. "Let's try this again. Remember that every time you shift gears, you need to use the clutch."

Stacy nodded wordlessly, absolutely mortified. "I'm not going to hurt your car, am I?" she whispered after a moment.

"No way," Ryan said swiftly, squeezing the hand still under his on the stick shift. "This thing is a tank. You're not going to hurt it."

She nodded again, taking a deep breath of her own. "Okay," she said after a moment. "I'm ready."

She started again, full of determination, easing one foot onto the gas and the other off of the clutch. Ryan watched carefully over her shoulder, directing her when to shift gears, reminding her to use the clutch, his hand guiding hers on the gearshift.

Slowly, Stacy began to relax, her grip on the wheel lessening as her confidence bolstered. The highway was straight and flat in front of them; it was easy to attune herself to the car, listening and feeling and training herself to shift naturally. She stopped and started several times, gliding on and off the shoulder with growing ease.

Eventually, Ryan lifted his hand from hers, his arms drifting behind his head as he settled back in his seat. "See?" he pointed out after awhile, turning his eyes to the pleasantly passing scenery. "It's not that hard."

"No," Stacy agreed with a smile. "It's…kinda fun!"

Ryan chuckled. "Well then – onward!" he encouraged with a wave of his hand. "Let's find out what's at the end of this highway."

Stacy grinned, a sudden feeling of wicked recklessness washing over her. She pressed down on the gas, expertly shifting into fifth gear as the car picked up speed. Soon enough, they were careening down the open road, the radio blasting between them. Ryan had found an old pair of sunglasses and donned them, singing along with the old beach tunes from the classic rock station.

Suddenly, Ryan sat up straight. "Watch out!" he cried, cutting off the radio abruptly.

Stacy, who'd mostly been paying attention to him instead of the road, looked up, her jaw dropping with horror as the ROAD CLOSED sign loomed ever closer. She slammed on the brakes, her left foot pressing the clutch all the way to the floor, and screamed when she realized the car wasn't going to stop in time.

Ryan grabbed the wheel and jerked it hard to the right, the car squealing in protest as it spun out onto the sandy shoulder. For one interminable moment, Stacy couldn't breathe, a horrible, sudden silence filling her ears.

"Are you okay?" called a voice, sounding as if it was on the other end of a very long tunnel.

Stacy opened her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks as she stared at her violently trembling hands, still clutching the wheel. She exhaled sharply, her breath jagged in her chest as adrenaline coursed through her body.

"_Stacy_," came a voice – _Ryan's voice_ – from her right. "_Are you okay?_"

"I think so," she managed to choke out, taking several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down. She had only just unfastened her seatbelt when she felt her car door open and arms reaching inside to pull her out.

"Jesus, Stace," Ryan breathed, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Any semblance of pulling herself together vanished as she clung to him, tears cascading down her cheeks as she buried her face in his shoulder. He held her close, one arm secure around her waist while the other rubbed soothing circles over the planes of her back. He continued to apologize softly, directing his words into her hair.

As her tears slowed and her panic lessened, Stacy became very aware of just how very close they were standing, and a fresh wave of mortification washed through her. "This is all my fault," she moaned, reluctantly letting him go and covering her face with her hands.

"No, it's not," Ryan said insistently. "I'm just as much to blame as you are. If I had been paying attention…"

Stacy let his words trail off, feeling her entire body heat as she fought through conflicting emotions – at being so close to him, and yet being so embarrassed about getting them into an accident; at wanting nothing more to lean into his still-unyielding embrace, and yet not wanting to receive only more of his pity.

She'd wanted to learn how to drive his car in order to impress him, and now he'd never think of her as anything other than a stupid kid.

"I was the one behind the wheel," she said finally, drawing away from him. "It's my responsibility."

Ryan chuckled lightly, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Stacy, you're adorable," he declared. "We're both in one piece, and the car is fine. It was just a little accident."

She chanced glancing up at him. "So you don't think I'm a stupid kid?" she asked, her voice small but hopeful, hyperaware of the way he continued to fidget with her hair.

"You're not stupid, Stace," he replied softly, his eyes narrowing imperceptibly as he studied her. "And you're not a kid."

Before she could place it, she felt him lean forward, his hand cupping the back of her neck as his lips brushed against hers. Her heart skipped a beat, shock coursing through her at the unexpectedly impulsive move, but she fought through it, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him, anything to prolong this long-awaited but never-anticipated intimacy.

Finally, he pulled away, his dark emerald eyes searching hers for a long moment. "I think I've wanted to do that for a long time," he admitted, a shy smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

_Not nearly as long as I've wanted you to_, Stacy thought, her own smile growing to match his.


	5. Argument

Prompt #5: Argument

Word Count: 1,732

Universe: Season 5

.xxxxx.

Stacy knocked on the door of the apartment before taking a step back, readjusting her grip on the heavy cast iron Dutch oven she was carrying. The pot was still warm from that morning, it was nearly full, and she'd been carrying it for five blocks. _You'd think I'd be used to this by now_, she considered, waiting as patiently as she could for someone to answer, _but the pots seem to get heavier and heavier…_

Finally, mercifully, the door swung open, revealing a rather tall, thin woman with graying brown hair.

"Hi, Mrs. L— !" Stacy chirped in greeting, smiling happily as she lifted the pot.

"Why, Stacy, it's lovely to see you, dear!" Ryan's mother replied. Her own smile faltered slightly as she realized what her visitor was carrying. "You brought soup again! How…_lovely_."

"Thanks," Stacy beamed. "Is Ryan around?"

"Am I around?" echoed a voice, floating to their ears from further down the hallway. "I'm _always_ around, thanks to this disgusting disease."

Ryan's mother rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Come on in, Stace," she directed, opening the door a bit wider and holding out her hands for the Dutch oven. "Let me just take that from you. I'm sure my son is ready for some company other than mine."

As if on cue, Ryan appeared from around the corner, looking grumpy and disheveled as he pulled his bathrobe tighter around his frame. His expression softened as he took in the welcome sight of his girlfriend, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he offered his hand to her. Stacy waited until his mother had disappeared into the kitchen before approaching him, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly.

"Better," he replied, the word reverberating through his body and into hers, filling her with delicious anticipation. He held her for a long moment, his eyes falling shut as he breathed in deeply, before pulling away. "C'mon, let's go."

He turned, taking her hand and leading her back down the hall. They had taken approximately five steps before his mother's voice rang out, crystal clear even through the walls that separated them: "Keep your door open!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ryan muttered under his breath, pushing into the room that had been his prison for the last six weeks. "Like I even have the strength to try anything."

Stacy followed, her happy expression faltering a bit as she entered the dark and gloomy space. Ryan released her hand, using what little energy he had left to crawl back into his bed, sitting up against the pillows. He looked absolutely terrible, thin and drawn, a pale shadow of the hale and healthy guy he had been only a few months before. Even the small act of bracing himself to sit up seemed to absolutely drain him; he lay back against the headboard, his shoulders sagging under the thin weight of his robe.

Stacy slipped her backpack from her shoulders as she carefully picked her way over to the bed, sinking into the mattress beside his feet. It was difficult to see him like this, but then, it hardly seemed fair that he'd been stricken with mononucleosis only a few months into their relationship. Some heretofore unknown nurturing instinct had been triggered in a big way, however, leading her to bring him soup every day for the last three weeks, as well as his homework, and notes from his friends and fellow bandmates. She'd even had the baseball team sign a huge get-well card for him, which had made for another…_interesting_ trip from her apartment to his.

Just as she was getting settled, Ryan's mother appeared, holding a tray laden with a bowl of soup, utensils, and a glass of water. She tut-tutted at her son as she crossed his disarrayed room, but she took her time arranging the tray and making sure he had everything he needed within arm's reach. It warmed Stacy's heart to see the two of them interacting, the love that flowed between them obvious, even if the patience was not.

Finally satisfied that he was okay for the moment, Ryan's mother left the room, waving to the two of them and pulling his door partially closed behind herself. Stacy knew that his mother had transferred her job to their home, and she used Stacy's visits with Ryan to get some work done. Their arrangement, although sometimes awkward, benefitted them all.

"So you brought more soup, eh?" Ryan mused, dutifully lifting his spoon to taste it.

"Of course," Stacy replied breezily. "Anything I can do to help you feel better, I will!"

He chuckled between bites. "My family's going to be eating soup for the next five years if you keep this up," he teased.

She frowned. "I was only trying to help," she murmured, crestfallen. Isn't that something that good girlfriends did – make soup when their boyfriends were sick?

"I know," he replied, "and it's delicious, really…" His words trailed off as he searched for the right way to frame his next thought. "But you don't have to bring it every time you come over. I'm only one person, and I can only each so much."

Stacy shrugged, pulling textbooks out of her bag. "But I suppose you'll still want me to bring your homework every time?" she remarked, not surprised in the least when he pushed aside his tray and made a lunge for the stack of papers she held.

"Yes, please," he replied, perking up a bit as he looked over the work.

Stacy shook her head. "You're the only person I know who actually _looks forward_ to doing homework," she observed, a tiny smile blossoming from the corners of her lips.

He gave her a wry look. "When all you have are these four walls to stare at, in the meanwhile? Homework starts looking amazing." He shrugged, spreading the books and papers on his lap and over the sheets around him. "Besides, I love learning. I _miss_ school, believe it or not."

She nodded, putting her backpack down and resettling herself closer to him on the bed. "I can believe it," she mused, reaching out to brush his hair from his brow. "I miss having you there…I miss seeing you, and spending time with you."

He smiled, leaning back into his pillows, his arm closing around hers where she touched him. "I miss you, too," he murmured with a sigh. "That just makes this even more frustrating to deal with."

She gazed at him sympathetically, twining her fingers through his soft, dark hair, such an interesting contrast to his almost alabaster skin. He'd had terribly swollen glands for a couple of weeks, a rash similar to chicken pox covering most of his visible skin, and fevers that never seemed to break. Those had been the hardest three weeks of their short relationship, because she hadn't been allowed to see him – he was still contagious. Now, the acute symptoms had cleared, and he was struggling through the hardest phase of the illness: weeks of crippling fatigue, as his immune system attempted reset itself. He'd lost some weight over the course of his illness, which had concerned his doctor, but in Stacy's eyes, he was just as beautiful as he'd ever been.

He opened his eyes, their dark emerald depths luminous as they latched onto hers. "How's the band?" he asked, extending his hand to lace his fingers through hers.

"They're okay," she informed him. "We're doing the best we can without you." It had been hard, as he was not only an integral singer, but also their lead guitarist, but they were doing what they could to cover in his absence.

"Hmm," he mused, closing his hand around hers at his brow. "Say, wasn't your driver's test today? How'd that go?"

Stacy grinned. "I passed," she said excitedly. "Can you believe it?"

"Congratulations, Stace!" he replied happily, his hands shifting into her hair. "I guess the third time's the charm?"

Stacy eagerly leaned over him, her eyes sliding shut as she closed the gap, only to feel him stay her at the last minute. "Stace, we shouldn't," he murmured regretfully.

She frowned as she sat up, her frustration momentarily getting the better of her. In an instant, she made her decision – she picked up the books and papers partially blocking her way, adding them to the pile on the other side of him, before sliding down beside him on top of the sheets and draping her arm across his chest.

"What are you doing?" he sputtered, struggling to sit up a bit higher against the headboard. He tossed a look across the room at his door, raking a hand through his hair in the process.

"I miss being close to you," Stacy said simply, tightening her grip on his shoulder and pressing herself as close to him as she dared. He was cocooned in pajamas, a robe, and the bedsheets, his warmth enticing and inviting on such a dreary winter day.

Ryan relented as she curled into him, relaxing once more and wrapping his arm around her. She smiled softly, resting her forehead against his, watching as his eyelids fluttered shut when her fingers found the lines of his jaw. It had been so hard to keep her hands off of him while he was sick; now, even such a small indulgence of this silly desire filled her with exhilaration.

She might have thought him asleep as her fingers danced dangerously close to his mouth, but he grabbed her hand, staying with a knowing look.

"There's a reason mono is called the kissing disease, Stacy," he reminded her softly.

"I don't care," she declared petulantly, her eyes dropping to his mouth, the need to feel his lips against hers burning through her swiftly and suddenly. She'd tried to be patient, but it had been _so long_, and they were _so close_ –

"I'd never forgive myself if you got sick," he told her plaintively. "I wouldn't wish this disease on my worst enemy, much less you."

Her gaze met his for a single, piercing moment. "I'm willing to take that risk," she replied recklessly, curling her hands into his hair. "Just one kiss…"

He smiled wolfishly, reaching up to cup her cheek. "Like we could ever stop with just one," he replied, lowering her mouth to his.


	6. Sunset

Prompt #6: Sunset

Word Count: 1,800

Universe: Season 5+

.xxxxx.

"Isn't it just wonderful out here?" Stacy sighed, tying a sheer sarong over her lavender-colored bikini. She stood on the shores of beach, no far from the boardwalk at Diamond Park, watching wistfully as the sun dipped below the horizon. There was nothing she loved more than the beach in the summertime, and she spent most of her long, leisurely days out here, swimming and tanning and strolling along the boardwalk. There was just something about this place – maybe it was the salty sea air, or the sun warming her shoulders, or even the gentle rhythm of the waves lapping at the shore – but she always felt calm and centered here, even in the midst of high tourist season.

Ryan smiled from his place beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I know I've never seen more beautiful scenery," he mused, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, just below her ear.

The intimate touch sent a thrill racing down Stacy's spine and she curled into him a bit further, closing her arms around his waist. "I wish we could stay like this forever," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

An unspoken heaviness descended upon them as Stacy closed her eyes. She didn't want to think about tomorrow, or the day after that – when he'd be leaving. She didn't want to think about the fact that he was moving away, off to attend some smashing university and chase his life's dream. She didn't want to think about the fact that she would be left behind, only in her third year of high school. She didn't want to think about the fact that he wasn't just leaving her, but the band, a group they'd both worked so long and hard to perfect.

It wasn't fair, but she was well aware of just how lucky she was – it had been nine months since their first date, and they'd survived everything from petty jealousy to serious illness. They'd grown progressively closer over the course of the summer, finally free to spend every waking moment together, so much so that now felt perfectly natural to hold him like this, and be held like this – to touch and kiss and caress, to explore and delight and admire.

"C'mon," Ryan said, breaking the patch of silence that had permeated the air between them, "let's sit down."

Stacy allowed him to take her hand, leading her away from the calming shore and into the sand, where they'd spread out her favorite old blanket earlier that afternoon. Hours ago, it had been the lone empty spot in the crowd, but now, they were the only two there, the others lured away by the bright lights of the boardwalk.

As soon as they had settled on the blanket, she wrapped her arms around him once more. "I'm going to miss you so much," she said softly, unable to disguise the longing in her voice.

He smiled, tweaking the ends of her hair. "I'm not gone yet," he chided gently.

She nodded sheepishly, averting her eyes from his teasing gaze. "I know it's silly, but even knowing our time is limited – "

"Then let's not waste it," he broke in, capturing her mouth with his. This kiss was slow and intense, his hands curling over the planes of her back, drawing her closer into him. She shifted into his lap, her knees straddling his hips, one kiss deepening into another, and another, and another, the slow burn of hunger igniting in her core. She could feel the wave of surprise that washed over him at her bold move, and it only encouraged her to press further, beyond, opening her mouth to his tongue.

She was so lost in the moment, to the growing desire brewing fast and hot between them, pushing boundaries only recently established, that she didn't even realize that he'd eased back, bringing her down on top of him as he lay flush with the soft blanket and sand. Almost immediately, she tensed, suddenly hyperaware of just how very close their bodies were, and just how intimately they were positioned.

"Breathe, Stacy," he whispered, his breath warm against her lips as his hands stroked her sides in a soothing caress, "just _breathe_."

But breathing was the one thing she couldn't do at that moment, her head suddenly filled with the voices of her classmates – the rumors that had flown fast and furious over the last year, about just how she managed to capture Ryan's heart and keep it for so long. She'd been called every nasty name in the book and accused of any number of horrible, untrue things; her reputation had been saved only by the override force of his. She'd never told him how bad it had gotten, especially after he returned to school following his long fight with mono, but the hurtful memories seized her now.

She'd tried – she _wanted to_ – but she just couldn't.

"I can't," she choked out, pushing up and breaking away from him, covering her face with her hands. "I can't do this."

Ryan stared at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "What's wrong, Stace?" he murmured, pulling himself back up into a sitting position.

She shook her head, hot tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. "I can't have sex with you," she confessed, her breath tight in her chest as she stumbled over the words. Immediately she flushed, looking up at him with wild eyes. "I mean, I _want to_, of course, but I can't – I mean, I'm just not ready."

"Wait – _what_?" he sputtered, looking completely, utterly confused.

Now that she'd said it, she just couldn't seem to _stop_ saying it, as if repeating the phrase would somehow convey the pressure she was feeling – and had felt, almost since the start of their relationship. "I mean, I know there are a lot of girls who want to have sex with you, and I don't know, maybe you've already had a lot of sex, or you'll want to have a lot of sex in college, but none of it with me because I'm me and I'm not ready and oh my God, does this mean you're going to break up with me?" Sobs ached in her chest, a hard lump forming and rising in her throat.

Ryan just shook his head, failing to comprehend a word of her panicked babbling. "Where is this coming from?" he finally managed, pushing a hand absently through his hair.

"Cecily and Rhonda," Stacy replied morosely.

"_Cecily and Rhonda_?" he echoed with disgust. "Why in the world are you listening to _them_?"

Stacy shrugged. "Because they're pretty, and popular, and hold so much sway over my classmates," she admitted. The two were called 'the Snobs' by those they deemed unworthy, which happened to include just about everyone in their class.

She sent a sidelong glance to her boyfriend. "And because they have experience with dating older guys."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's nothing to write home about," he snorted. "Have you ever seen the type of guy those two go after? They're total losers, who want them for one thing only – one thing they are more than happy to supply."

Stacy sniffled. "They were the only ones who believed me when I told them that I'd never – you know," she burbled, suddenly shy of the phrase again. "But they also told me that I was 'unnaturally close' to a boyfriend I'd never slept with."

"'Unnaturally close'?" he repeated incredulously. "Stacy, you are the _only reason_ I was able to graduate on time! If it hadn't been for you bringing me my schoolwork every day and convincing the teachers to let me take makeup exams, I'd have friggin' _failed_ my senior year of high school!" He clasped her shoulders. "If being 'unnaturally close' to you is wrong, then I never want to be right."

Her tears continued to fall, even as she managed to meet his gaze. "They told me – they told me I'd lose you, if I didn't – sleep with you," she said in a rush. "They said, 'older men only want one thing, and if you aren't giving it to them, they'll find someone who will.'"

"They're jackasses, Stace," Ryan interrupted fiercely, "and – "

" – and everyone _already_ thought we were doing it," she barreled on, "because why else would someone like you be interested in someone like me?" She bit her lip, averting her eyes.

Ryan was quiet for a long moment, allowing her words to fully soak in before responding. "Stacy," he sighed, brushing her hair away from her brow, "why didn't you tell me this was going on? I would've _done something_ if I'd known – the last thing in the world I want is for you to be hurt, and so needlessly."

She shrugged helplessly. "You already had so much going on," she replied. "You were sick for so long…I didn't want to burden you with my stupid problems."

"Your problems aren't stupid to me," he said softly, lifting her chin to meet her gaze. "Nothing about you is stupid to me. I like you for who you are – "

He stopped himself abruptly, shaking his head. "No, scratch that – _I love you_, and I love everything about you. You're beautiful, and talented, and funny, and kind. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know, and you've never had an unkind word to say, even for the nastiest human beings currently occupying this planet." He scowled as he attempted to contain his misplaced anger at all of these people who'd hurt his girlfriend over the last year, fighting hard to keep his temper intact.

Stacy barely even noticed the struggle, her heart – her mind – her soul focused on the very first part of his impromptu speech. "You love me?" she whispered disbelievingly, drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she hoped against hope that she hadn't misheard him.

His expression calmed instantly, his hand rising to cup her cheek. "I love you," he said again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And yes, there is a long list of things I'd love to do to you – _with_ you – but only when you're ready."

Suddenly, her chest warmed, as if her heart were bursting with love and adoration, serenity and security. It was as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders, freeing her to feel confident not only in her love for him, but his for her. "So you're not going to break up with me," she concluded with relief, joy flooding her tone.

His smile turned wry. "Now why would I give up the best girlfriend in the entire world?" he questioned teasingly, his mouth finding hers as he wrapped her in a warm embrace.


	7. Embrace

Prompt #7: Embrace

Word Count: 2,011

Universe: Post-canon

.xxxxx.

Stacy sat primly at the little table near the café, crossing one leg over the other as she idly played with the handle of her coffee cup. Her expression was distant as she eyed the arrivals board, looking every inch the calm, cool sophisticate she had become during her short time in Europe. Dressed in chic black Givenchy, high heels and a cloche hat over smooth, sleek, dark blond hair, it would be easy to mistake her for a native. Indeed, no one passing by her table on the second level of Terminal 1 in the Aéroport Paris-Charles de Gaulle gave her so much as a second look.

She had come to Paris for study abroad and had totally fallen in love with the city, staying longer than her allotted one semester. She had been 'discovered' at a little café in Paris during her extended stay, sipping a light soda on a warm spring afternoon, and had quickly moved into some lower-level print work for one of the smaller fashion houses. It had been an amusing adventure, and one that fit rather perfectly with her major, fashion design. It was her dream to one day work with Givenchy, who had sculpted Audrey Hepburn's classic look in the mid-'60s – and if modeling got her in that door, she was more than ready to pursue such a path.

The choice to stay in Paris for an extra semester, and now over the summer, had been an easy one to make. She'd eventually worked everything out with her school back in the States, and once she started modeling, had moved out of her host family's home into her own little apartment on the outskirts of the city. She'd even managed to win over her parent's objections, pointing out that Renee was just across the Channel finishing up graduate work at Oxford, so it wasn't like she was _alone_ on her side of the world – merely 350 miles away from the nearest family member.

It wasn't Renee who was arriving today, however.

For all that she _looked_ cosmopolitan and collected, Stacy felt anything _but_ on the inside, nervous anticipation swirling through her stomach as she drummed her perfectly manicured nails against the ceramic cup. It had been nearly two years since she'd seen him, and she was as jittery today as she had been the first time she'd realized she'd felt something special for him. And yet, in all the years since that day, so much had happened – most of it good, some of it not – that she felt silly all the same.

She _knew_ him – she'd _grown up_ with him – she'd _loved_ him for a very long time.

And now, Ryan was coming to visit her for the first time, nearly two years to the day since the end of their relationship.

The split had been amicable, albeit unwanted; he was moving to Seattle following his graduation from university, knowing his career opportunities were better on the West Coast. She'd just started her second year at the Fashion Institute in New York, and both knew that 3,000 miles was too much, too long, too far to conduct a proper relationship. It had been hard, letting him go; she had little interest in dating, even after arriving in the posh French capital. Time had finally healed the wound that distance had ripped open, hence her rather impulsive decision to invite him to visit, after two years of only occasional letters and phone calls.

She wasn't sure how to react, now that this long-anticipated reunion was almost upon her. She'd learned how to leash her somewhat impetuous emotions over the years, and had perfected a façade of icy grace during her time in Europe. It was her attitude as much as her looks that had won her the modeling contract, and spending time even in the lower rungs of haute couture fashion had only reinforced the desire to appear cool and in control at all times. She'd tried to think of how a gorgeous Parisian would react to meeting a former lover, and attempted to act accordingly, but it was hard.

On the inside, she was still an overeager twelve-year-old, bubbling with excited anticipation at being within five feet of her once-and-only crush object. Ryan had been her first in every significant meaning of the word, so thinking about him also drew those memories to the surface – the giddy feelings of falling in love, the comfort of being held and cared for, the darker desires of love and lust. Even now, conjuring up her last memory of seeing him made her entire body flush hot and cold, gooseflesh rising over her bare legs.

Her coffee had grown cold in her cup as she stared into the depths of the dark liquid, half-wondering and half-deciding how she would react when she greeted him at his gate. Would she remain cool, calm, and sophisticated? Could she see herself walking up to him, greeting him with a nonchalant handshake, or perhaps even the double air kisses Europeans were so fond of? Could she restrain her smile and the look in her eyes, inquire about the weather and his plane ride over, as if they were merely cordial friends in a casual meeting?

Or would she fall apart with just one look, memories overriding her good judgment as she threw herself in his arms, like no time had passed since their final parting?

She glanced up, her heart picking up speed as her eyes latched onto the latest arrival notice to scroll up on the board. "Nine-fifteen from JFK," she murmured under her breath. _That's his flight._

She stood, taking a moment to smooth her skirt over her legs and twist her purse over her shoulder before dropping a few francs on the table and moving away, her heels clicking smartly against the tile as she passed the other shops and restaurants on the second level.

Terminal 1 was a true sight to behold, and she allowed her eyes to drift up, up, up as she walked under the seventy-foot skylight, cradled in the middle of the building, flooding the light, airy structure with warmth and sunshine. Elsewise, the structure looked like something out of the future, the connecting corridors between floors encased in long glass tubes. Stacy joined fellow travelers on the moving sidewalks that took the place of escalators, traveling up to the fifth floor, which connected the terminal with the arrival gates.

As she stepped off onto her chosen floor, her eyes flew to the nearest arrivals board, and she noted with some trepidation that his flight listing had risen faster than she expected. His gate was one of the furthest away, and she would have to move quickly to even meet him halfway. She stayed the impulse, however, weaving through the thickening crowd with practiced ease, one hand closing around her purse where it lay at her hip.

When she crested the corridor, she noticed a wave of people walking towards her, spilling from the three gates closest to the end of the hall. All around her, happy family members called into the crowd, each cry and shriek sending a shiver of anticipation rolling down Stacy's spine. She pressed forward, her eyes roving over the faces of the weary travelers, suddenly on guard to expect the unexpected.

She spotted him almost immediately, her breath hitching in her chest. Like most of his fellow passengers, he was dressed for maximum comfort – his version of which meant dark jeans paired with a nondescript black t-shirt, dark aviator shades in place, and his omnipresent leather jacket casually slung over one arm. He carried a huge duffel bag, and she could almost make out the straps of a backpack resting against his shoulders as well. Her heart skipped a beat when she noticed classic black Chuck Taylors at the hems of his jeans. To her eyes, he looked deliciously sexy and rumpled for someone who'd just flown overnight on a trans-Atlantic flight, and she could feel her resolve beginning to slip.

She _felt_ it, the moment he found her in this virtual sea of humanity. Her eyes flickered to his as he reached up with his free hand to peel his sunglasses from his face, a slow smile curving his mouth all the while. Every fiber of her being was suddenly set ablaze with fiery anticipation, any pretense of remaining the silent sophisticate abandoning her beneath the flood of desire that threatened to overwhelm her. In an instant, she knew this would be no casual visit between old friends. If only his smile could affect her so much, there was no way she'd be able to be in his presence for two minutes, much less two _weeks_, without wanting to return to the way things were before interests and distance had torn them apart.

She was unable to suppress her own smile as she quickened her pace, moving as swiftly as her four inch heels would allow. She dodged fellow well-wishers, squeezing between friends and families as her focus narrowed to him, and only him. The muscles of her torso constricted as they closed the gap, and she was surprised to feel a heady heaviness in her chest, rising up to back of her throat and settling behind her eyes.

Two steps away, he dropped his bag and his coat, opening his arms to her. She stepped into the eager embrace, reaching out to touch him fleetingly before her mouth found his, the intimate touch causing her heart to immediately burst, the very core of her being filled with longing and loss and love, each emotion cascading into the next. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as she pressed closer, her hands raking through his hair, relishing every nip and tug of their mouths, every brush of their tongues. She felt his arms close around her, his hands roving expertly over familiar territory, drifting up the planes of her back to her shoulders, drawing her body into his, until she was flush against him, her hips cradling perfectly into his, just like always.

"Wow, Stace," he mumbled against her lips, his breath heavy and hard, "if I had known this would be your greeting, I would've visited a _lot_ sooner."

She smiled, pressing her forehead to his as she pushed air back into her lungs, her hands curling into his hair as her elbows rested against the straps of the backpack on his shoulders. Perhaps deep down, she'd always known it would be like this – or, at least, that she could never doubt her own reaction, the way she was drawn to him like metal to a magnet, no matter what the circumstances. Maybe now she could admit that she'd been afraid – that he'd forgotten, or gotten over her, or moved on with his life, leaving no space for her in it. She'd survived enough unrequited love to last her a lifetime, but learning that she'd lost him forever would've broken her spirit in a way that not even career success could bolster.

"I've missed you," she admitted, her voice gravelly with pent-up emotion.

He shook his head slightly, tightening the brace of his arms around her. "Not half as much as I've missed you," he replied, capturing her lips in another sweet kiss.

Her hands slipped from his hair, smoothing over his arms before drifting down to capture his, giving them a tiny squeeze. "Come on," she murmured, breaking away slightly. "Let's go."

He stilled her with a single, piercing glance. "Where am I staying?" he asked softly, his eyes narrowing in questioning assessment as he studied her.

She smiled, reaching for fistfuls of his shirt. "With me, of course," she declared in response, her eyes glittering boldly as they met his. She had no doubt in her mind that by the end of the day, their reunion would be complete in _every _sense of the word. "It's not much, but I call it home."

"Then let's go home," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again.


End file.
